Charade

It was like my thirst for revenge hijacked my instincts.

I wasn't thinking. Just walking.

Right into the crowd, straight toward the palace.

From afar, the palace shimmered—majestic and terrible.

Spires kissed the clouds, gleaming with white stone, gilded trim, and crimson banners that fluttered like judgment.

A dream to some. A gilded cage to me.

Fortunately, my ancient mind kicked in before I did something stupid.

Strategise.

That was the whisper.

Strategy's never been my strong suit, but after all these years… I learned.

Learned what happens when you're rash.

Learned how easy it is for them to lock you up and throw away the key again.

And then—

As if fate finally decided to throw me a bone—

I saw them.

A neat cluster of young Love Fairies, standing in tidy little rows like dolls in a shop window.

I used to be one of them.

They looked about twenty-one.

Freshly matured. Just beginning their "training."

A prettier word for indoctrination.

How do I know?

Easy. Just listen.

"Oh Doverel, I want to contribute to the Love Fairy Kingdom! It's meaningful work!" one of them squealed, twirling in her pink dress like she was in a toothpaste commercial.

"Oh Lisa, you know our job is to prevent the extinction of species—I'm excited too!" her friend replied.

Extinction of species?

Really?

That lie is planted early, deep.

But if it's the only story you've ever been told…

How would you know better?

Then—mud.

A fat, gloppy puddle right beside the line of fairies.

And just like that, a wicked idea bloomed.

I sauntered over, aimed carefully for the last girl at the end of the line—

And theatrically tripped.

Right into the puddle.

Gasps rippled like gossip as I rose, dripping in thick, oozing sludge.

Ironically, it covered up the filth on my deranged gown.

Honestly?

Improvement.

"Oh no, did I accidentally trip you?" the last fairy asked, reaching out with genuine concern.

Wait—what?

I blinked.

Kindness?

Here?

I took her hand and stood, wobbling for effect.

"Your gloves—your dress—it's all ruined!" I gasped, dabbing a little extra mud on her sleeve for good measure.

Right on cue, a shrill voice snapped through the air.

"Young fairies! What is this mess? You two—get cleaned up. Changing room. Thirty minutes. Move!"

An Elder.

Sharp eyes.

Judgmental tone.

Definitely still awful.

"Go on, both of you," she added, glaring directly at me.

Perfect.

I had them.

I was in.

The fairy beside me tugged gently at my arm, leading me toward a smaller building just off to the side.

"Hurry, or we'll never make it in time," she urged.

We slipped inside.

Pastel gowns hung in rows.

Glittery gloves stacked neatly.

The air was so thick with perfume it could suffocate a bird.

A bathroom stood to the right.

Miraculously clean.

"Pick anything from the closet once you've rinsed off," she giggled. "But definitely rinse first."

She turned to me, still smiling.

Bright. Kind. Too trusting.

"Doverel, by the way. And you are?"

I hesitated.

The truth wouldn't matter.

But I needed to know.

Did my name still ring a bell?

"Scarlette," I said, flashing my best innocent smile.

But it was clear—my name didn't stir fear or even curiosity.

Her next words made that painfully obvious.

"Are you twenty-one too?"

I shrugged.

"No. I'm actually over a century old."

Lying has never been my strength.

But sometimes, it depends on the receiver.

And this one?

She burst into laughter.

"You're funny! Centuries old—who are we kidding now? Come on—we really have to hurry."

And just like that...

The charade begins.

Yes.

No one remembered me.